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In the Eye of the Beholder

It’s true. Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Saturday afternoon I headed into our neighborhood ready to put away groceries and relax after work. Half a block from our house, I had to pull over for a free sign and I almost got teary looking at what I saw.

I raced around the corner to get home asap and as I was getting out of the car, John came outside with the kids to help with groceries. I told him to skip the groceries and just head down the street to check out the treasure I found.

He came back a minute later shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not! It’s in terrible shape!”

But I didn’t care. We all headed back down, one raggamuffin kids in a diaper and tee, the other in a backwards dress with crazy just-after-nap hair and dirty flip flops thrown on her feet.

It’s so pretty. SO pretty.

He just shook his head and asked if their teenage son would help him get it to our garage with him. They brought it back and I ran my hand over the wood across the back of the couch. I have wanted an old blue velvet couch for as long as I can remember.

Granted, it’s really not in great shape. The fabric is threadbare in spots and the piping is poking out of cushions. Later in the evening, it took a good shopvac to get it cleaned up a bit. But, it’s still just so pretty. And it has great bones. I’m getting all crazy envisioning re-upholstering it the same exact shade of blue velvet. The cushions are also in need of help in a big way.

But I don’t care. It’s beautiful. And free. Even if my husband just wants to put it right back out on the curb.